My Twisted Fairy Tale
by KiwiStar
Summary: She had a bad habit of ignoring problems until they went away, and somewhere along the line it was sure to backfire. She figured it was about time she learned that lesson, and when,or, if she got out of the most recent problem, she'd get right on that. Right now, though, she was tied up in a chair and trying to ignore the glint of a pistol in a maniac's hand. Miz/OC/?


**Well guess who went and started a new story? Well, it's not exactly new as much as it is a reboot. This is the reboot of My Twisted Fairy Tale. I deleted the original because it sucks and was a particularly sucky story and I'd rather forget about it.**

**So...yeah. I only own Cori.**

Here's the full summary: **She should've seen the warning signs, that something wasn't quite right, but she had a tendency to ignore warning signs until they became bad decisions, and ultimately, bad situations. She figured it was about time she learned that lesson, and when, more appropriately, if she got out of the most recent bad situation, she'd get right on that. Right now, though, she was tied up in a chair in her very own living room, staring into the eyes of a lunatic and trying to ignore the glint of a pistol in his hand.**

**Please read, review, and enjoy**

**To Infinity and Beyond, **

**Kiwi**

* * *

"Fuck," Cori cursed under her breath as she massaged her neck with her right hand. Her left rested on the small of her back as she slowly made her way through the gorilla. She had slightly miscalculated her landing on her Corkscrew Moonsault, and the after-effects weren't exactly peachy. "I think I pulled something."

"So, Ms. "I'm Tough Cuz' I'm From England" has a boo-boo?" The man beside her, Mike Mizanin, laughed and she tossed him a glare before elbowing him in the side and growling an obscenity under her breath. "Come on, Cori, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Put some ice on it, or you know, grow a pair and deal with it." Mike chuckled again, amused at his little joke, but his expression fell when Cori slid her hand up through his hair, mussing the jelled locks. "Corilynn!"

"Tough guy's usin' my full name, is he now? Stop being such a girl and stop freakin' out over people touchin' your hair," she smirked. Mike was her best friend, the Pepper Potts to her Iron Man (they had discussed this, she was most definitely Iron Man), the Loki to her Thor, etc., etc., etc. Thick as thieves, as the proverbial saying goes. Cori and Mike were practically inseparable.

Mike threw an arm across her shoulder. "I'll massage your back later, but right now, you have to go find your Shield buddies." Mike remarked, pushing her forward slightly through the backstage area. "Little Hound of Injustice," he mimicked a howl.

"You're quite chipper about it, seeing as they slammed your pretty little duck face into the mat," Cori smirked again and leaned up to kiss Mike's cheek. "They're actually pretty nice guys, okay, Mike?"

The Shield, the Hound of Injustice, including Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, and Seth Rollings; Jonathan Good, Leati Anoa'I, and Colby Lopez respectively, was the current hype in the WWE. The stable was undefeated thus far, and Cori had been placed with the stable when it debuted. The fans seemed to love it, and she chalked it up to fifty-percent skill and fifty-percent female representation. She and the guys seemed to have good chemistry, and she got along with them just fine, and she considered them friends. Mike, on the other hand, didn't.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I'll see you later, alright?" And there it was. The dismissal. Mike retreated down a hallway, tossing his hand up in the air to signify he heard her farewell. Cori's shoulders slumped, and she sighed as she ran a hand through her curly, dark brown hair. It was happening a lot recently, Mike leaving whenever any of The Shield guys came into conversation, and to be honest, it was really starting to bug her. What was his problem?

Cori turned and nearly ran face-to-chest with Colby. "Speak of the Devil," she murmured, bringing a smile to her face. "Where are the other two Musketeers?"  
"Jon and Joe? Hair and makeup. Nice match out there, Starsky," Colby offered a small smile as he adjusted the black vest on his frame. "Where's Hutch?"

"He left," she fought back the second sigh and turned it into a faint chuckle. "He likes to disappear whenever you guys show up." Cori turned to rest her back against a stack of equipment boxes and shipping crates. "No idea why, though. So, who's ass are you guys kicking tonight?"

"Uh," Colby hesitated and gestured with his hands for a moment before shoving them into his pocket. He nudged the floor with the tip of his boot. "Mike?" He ran a hand through his hair and winced slightly as her expression fell.

"Oh."

"Yeah, he's probably just gonna go prepare, ya know? Probably had nothing to do with the fact his best friend has to hit him with a chair," Colby shrugged again, nearly losing his balance when she lunged forward at him.

"Hit him with a chair? And nobody told me this? I...I have to go talk to him," she made a motion to move past Colby, but the taller man just held a hand up to her shoulder.

"After the match. We have to get up there. We didn't tell you, because you weren't supposed to know...," he eased into the subject. "Creative didn't want you to know. Just wanted us to throw you a chair, and hope you knew to go along with it. So...just act surprised, alright?" Colby said and steered her further backstage to meet up with Jon and Joe. "I'm sorry, alright, Cor?"

Cori nodded, "Strictly business, right?"

/

The chair felt like a lead weight in her hands. Yes, she had wielded chairs against friends before. This was the ring, not corporate office. Smashing friends into the floor was business, and nobody ever really took it to heart. It was merely body slams and chair shots in the ring, and good wishes in the back. She had never had a problem with it. Countless times she'd had to beat a good friend into submission, then go out to celebrate that friend's birthday later in the evening. It was a concept that had been drilled into their heads since the beginning. What happened in the ring was business, and was not personal.

Cori breathed in and hoisted the chair high above her head. Below her lay Mike, vulnerable and wincing—contorted into some sort of ball to alleviate whatever pain was surely ebbing through his body. Holding her breath, she brought the chair down in a swift motion, felt the reverberations as it smacked against Mike's skin, and let the chair drop to the ground. Then, she hit the floor beside him and ran her hand through his hair. Her fingers wound around the mussed hair and pulled his face from the mat.

She was supposed to be menacing, to spit some cruel, vulgar term at him before releasing him and stalking off with The Shield. That's what was written in the script. Obscenities, at least what she could get away with with the PG-rating, and a face-slam.

"Maybe next time you'll learn your lesson, Miz. Never cross The Shield."

This was business, as usual.

/

"Why the hell didn't you _tell_ me I had to beat the shit out of you?" Cori's voice raised, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Did it not occur to you that I'd want to know?"

"Did it not occur to you that I wanted to tell you, but couldn't?" Mike fired back, rubbing the back of his neck. He entered the locker room, with her following, and sat down on the bench. "This is the guys' room, Cori."

"Nobody's here," she justified as she took a place next to him. "I just...I don't like secrecy and ever since things ended with Shane I just...I don't like secrecy. I understand, it was business, but..I just don't know, Mike. I didn't like it, and I'm sorry for blowing up at you."

"Apology accepted," Mike muttered under his breath and gently shouldered her. "I have a hard skull anyway. It's not like you did much damage." He chuckled at his own joke, and smiled upon seeing a smile grace her face again. "Now, you should get a move on before some tough, grotty guy comes in and just shucks his trunks without checking for chicks."

Her eyebrow hiked up. "You guys do that? Just...free willy whenever yeh feel like it?" Cori grimaced and her face morphed into one of horror. "Oh my God..."  
"What? It's not like you girls are any different."

"We don't go runnin' around with our tatas hanging out," Cori defended, eyes widening when Mike grinned maliciously. "Okay, okay, I'm going." She raised her hands in defeat and made a beeline for the door. Ducking out of the room, she sighed a relief and spun to make her way down the hall.

It was only fate that she ran into John Cena.


End file.
